You Make Me Smile
by Marchioness of Blackadder
Summary: There's something so simple, sweet, and pure in the love of your life being your best friend. This is a look at Jim and Pam, and how someone can feel so overwhelmed by happiness and love that they can do crazy things. Fluff: you've been warned.


A/N: I'm not really sure why I wrote this. A series of little ideas came to me when I was re-watching The Office season 2, and this was one of them. I've never written fanfiction for The Office before, but why not start now, I guess! I hope you like it for what it is-short, sweet, and pretty much fluff. I may turn this into a series of oneshots such as my collection for Iron Man if you like it enough. So if you do, review and let me know! Thanks!

This was not a situation Jim Halpert was prepared for in any way.

But he had to admit, it was one of the funniest things he'd ever seen when Pam Beasley was drunk. He wasn't exactly sure how it had happened. She had started drinking his beer, then colorful margaritas, then regular margaritas-and what was odd was that he couldn't remember really ever seeing her drink. He wasn't much of a drinker himself, a beer now and then, or two if it was the weekend. But seeing Pam drunk was the funniest and cutest thing he could ever have imagined. She was loopy, and she was much more outspoken, of course.

As she was hugging everyone while they were coming out of the Dundie Awards at Chili's, Jim thought fleetingly of the kiss that Pam had given him-completely unwarranted and carefree. Not his most ideal way he'd imagined first kissing Pam, but at the same time he had felt his heart stop when she'd thrown her arms around his neck.

"Mmm, where's Angela?" Pam asked, leaning her head against Jim's arm. Even with his coat on, his entire arm tingled.

"I think she went to get her car," he said, swallowing and taking her arm gently. "How about we sit down… uh, before you fall down."

Pam giggled, her green-hazel eyes looking up at him. "Mmm, okay, sure, Jim…sure…"

They sat down on a street bench side by side. Jim glanced down at her hand, so close to his-her engagement ring shining lack-lusterly on her finger. Pam let out a puff of air, rolling her eyes up to him.

"I… feel bad about what I wrote about Michael on the bathroom wall."

Jim grinned. "No you don't."

Pam giggled.

A silver car pulled up in front of them, and Angela rolled her window down. "Jim, I can't take Pam home," she said quickly, her normally snappish attitude enunciated. "I just got a call from my cat sitter- I have to take Sprinkles in immediately."

Jim blinked for a minute, registering the fact that Angela's abnormal obsession with her children-cats had just reached a whole new level. "Uh-no, sure, that's fine, I can take her home."

Angela gave him a sardonic look without a word, rolled up her window and pulled out. He'd have to figure out what _that_ was about later.

Pam's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "…woah…I hope Sprinkler is okay."

Jim grinned, shaking his head. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Come on, let's go." Jim took her arm and hand gently and helped her to her feet, escorting her to his car. He felt like he was walking on clouds, numb and buzzing with vitality at the same time. He opened the passenger door and helped Pam into the car. "Easy now," he grinned. "Don't hit your-"

_Thunk._

"…head."

Pam put her hand to her head and groaned. "Ow…where did that _come _from?"

"Out of nowhere," Jim teased her, making sure her seat belt was on and that all her limbs and fingers and toes were clear of the door before he shut it. He got in, started the car, and jacked the heater up, conscious of how long they'd been outside in the cold. "All right-hey, tell me if you feel sick and I'll pull over."

"Yeah… no puking in Jim's car…"

"Exactly," said Jim. "This is a no puking zone."

The car ride was silent for the thirty minutes it took to drive to Pam's apartment. He pulled into the lot and parked, keeping the car running. Pam sighed, looking up at her door-the one she shared with Roy, and looked over at Jim with a lazy smile.

"Ready?" Jim asked, smiling gently.

"…no," Pam laughed gently, looking back up at the door. Jim watched her face, his smile starting to slip at her laugh. It wasn't actually amused- and around that time, her laugh turned into a cry. Tears were rolling down her eyes, and it happened so fast Jim wasn't completely unsure that she'd been holding it in for a while.

"Woah- what's wrong-?"

"I don't want to go up there," Pam whimpered, putting her hands to her eyes, crying, her lips pursing to keep her cries inside her. Regret, remorse, and hollowed sadness filled her voice. "I don't want to live this stupid life- this stupid, stupid, empty life-I ha-hate it, I can't _stand_ it. I have _nothing_."

Jim's throat swelled with incredible hurt at seeing Pam like this- he hated it, maybe even more than she did. Jim knew Pam would never say this out loud if she hadn't been drinking, and he also knew that she would have died to realize she was saying it to him. She was revealing her secrets that were only meant for her, after the lights were turned off and she was under her covers. He had no idea what to do, he'd never felt so helpless. His best friend, the love of his life-he wanted to hold her, to comfort her. He should have, but then again… he shouldn't.

Jim wasn't sure what to do. He reached over and opened the glove box and took out some napkins, handing them to her. Pam took them, whispering a tender "Thank you" and wiped her eyes, dabbing her nose politely. Jim watched her, his heart twisting and ringing itself. There in the space of his little, beat up car, he and Pam were completely alone. There was no apartment outside, there was no office to have to go to on Monday, no expectations, no fiancés, no girlfriends-just the two of them, there in the warm cab of the car.

Jim reached over and took Pam's soft, petite artist's hand in his.

Pam squeezed his hand back.

"You… don't have to go up there," Jim said quietly, his voice subdued, his words heavy with truth. Almost as heavy as his heart. "I'll take you anywhere you want- or we could just sleep in my car if you want. I'd build you a tent, if you want."

Pam smiled then. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely. Or we could build a fort. Make s'mores. Paint each other's nails. You know, the usual."

Pam laughed then, and it was real this time. Jim looked down at their hands- her left hand again, but with his covering her fingers, the ring was hidden, invisible. Pam wiped her eyes again, looking over at Jim. He met her gaze willingly, freely, and saw nothing now but warmth and thankfulness.

_For him._

"Do you… do you still want me to…take you somewhere?"

"No," Pam whispered with a heavy sigh. She looked down at their hands, at first like she was confused as to how they'd gotten that way, and then she sniffled, her bangs falling from behind her ear like they so often did. She reached over with her free hand and gently traced the back of Jim's hand, making his brain melt and his heart catch in his throat.

"Pam…"

Pam looked up at him, her hazel green eyes widening for a minute before stopping her ministrations and pulling back. "Sorry," she murmured, blinking rapidly as if trying to wake up from her drunken stupor. "I should- I should go in… thanks for the ride, Jim."

"Do you want me to help you up the stairs?" Jim asked, overwhelming the feeling of loss from her hands.

"No, I'll be all right," Pam said, opening the door. "I've got you on speed dial if I fall and can't get up." She threw him a smile before gently getting out. "Thanks again," she murmured.

Jim smiled, his eyes watching her. "Sure thing… goodnight, Pam."

"Night, Jim," she said, before gently shutting the door and walking up to her apartment. Jim watched her as she walked up the stairs, making sure she made it unharmed and without problem. He didn't shift the gear into reverse until she'd gone inside and shut the door, part out of safety, part out of longing.

As Jim drove home, he knew he should be upset. He knew that he was a terrible person for not being concerned about Pam's sadness. But in her confession, he took joy and encouragement from a very obvious fact-the truest thing in the world that Pam didn't know, but he was determined that she would know it-and soon. From him.

And that was that Pam Beasley would always have Jim Halpert.

She would never have nothing. She'd _always_ have him. Always.


End file.
